Apart
by emiliesimagination
Summary: There was no note, no text, Noora just left. She returns to her friends in Oslo and William stays in London. Noora doesn't tell her friends why and he struggles with the silence in the apartment that once was theirs. Or, how Noora and William deal with her return to Oslo.
1. LHR-OSL

**I originally uploaded this story to Archiveofourown, but thought I might share it with you here as well.**

 **This is a multi chapter Noorhelm story with lots of angst especially in the beginning.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

She just left.

There were no goodbyes or notes left. Not even the almost empty bottle of shampoo stayed in the shower when Noora had collected every last one of her possessions in the well traveled suitcase she had brought to London.

Her fingers traced the slightly faded ‚I love Madrid' sticker she had put on the hard cover to mark it as her own. Madrid, another city, another unspoken goodbye. She still so intently remembered her parents' angry voices over the phone when they had discovered their daughter's escape to far-away Spain. But that had been different, at least she repeated that thought in her head; over and over to drown out any voices doubting her decision.

She wasn't running away this time; no, she was returning home. To the place where she could always expect her new family to welcome her, to the city all her friends lived in, even to the school and gossip she had been part of for the last year. How she missed Eskild, the inappropriate snarky comments he would great her with instead of _good morning_ or _hello_. And Linn, her head in a blanked and mouth in a straight line, only ever leaving the seclusion of her room for a bottle of Funlight.

Her lips slightly curled upwards at the thought of all the faces her friends would make when the saw her. Eskild would most likely pick her up like a little child and even Linn might grace her return with the smallest of smiles. Eva, gasping at her with a loving ‚ _fucking hell Noora!_ ', Vilde's ecstatic exclamations of joy, Chris dropping a cheeky comment and Sana's always knowing smirk.

The unexpectedly loud siren of a passing ambulance pulled her thoughts back to England, London, the apartment she was about to vacate. The floor and every surface was bare and neatly polished, resulting in perfect rows of little specs of light covering the marble kitchen counter. The sheets of the unnecessary big bed were perfectly folded, the windowsills cleared of any dust and not even one pillow graced the cold leather couch, Noora had barely set upon twice. If she didn't know any better, she might say the apartment served as a show room, every last piece of furniture was perfectly positioned - not once moved - there were no decorations saved for the guitar, leaning against a living room wall, he had brought from Oslo; the only reminder that this had indeed been their apartment.

It looked untouched, empty, derived of any life or joy, she found. The walls were too white, the wooden floors too shiny and there was no lingering smell of freshly made coffee or his perfume she so adored in the air.

As somehow reassuring, it also had a slightly dreary connotation: she hadn't left a single mark in the whole apartment; as if she had never lived her for a single day.

Another loud honk, this time it was the taxi she had just ordered some minutes prior. One last look around the half empty rooms and then the key turned in the lock for the last time before she hoisted her suitcase down the steep set of stairs leading from their apartment.

The ride to Heathrow was short and somehow her mind had remained completely calm, as if nothing was out of order. She should feel bad, feel anything but indifferent and yet their wasn't as single tear or uncertain look thrown across her shoulder. Her eyes were strictly trained forward, away from the British capital and focused on the way leading her back home, or as close to home as she had ever known.

After navigating through the airport and finding her window seat on the plain, Noora sensed the lack of sleep from the previous night catching up with her, so shortly after leaving the British coast her eyes fell closed and stayed that way until the decent to Oslo.

She had been up the better part of the night, knowing full well what she was about to do the next morning. The debate in her head - whether or not to tell him - had been quickly decided by the memory of his pleading eyes when she had once asked him for space after the bottle incident. If that had been his reaction then, she was absolutely certain she couldn't take his sad face now.

But she had spent that last night alone, as she had many nights before. He would work long hours into the late evenings more days than not and since the office also offered a couch to sleep on, Noora had the huge bed to herself. It had only made it worse and his absence more noticeably, when she would toss and turn in her dreams and never once accidentally hit his shoulder with her arm or find herself waking curled against his chest. Even the pillow placed on his empty side of the bed had lost his familiar smell.

Of course she would tell him, explain everything; but maybe it wouldn't be necessary. After all this return to Oslo didn't exclude a possible trip back to London in a few weeks. Maybe she just needed to see her friends, have fun and get dragged along to High school parties for a month. Maybe that could be enough, it might fill the hole in her chest.

This wasn't breaking up, this wasn't falling out of love, this was simply her going back to Oslo. There was no need to tell him as their was nothing to tell.

What could she even write?

 _I'm in Oslo._

 _I'll be back._

 _I miss you._

 _You're never home. I miss you._

 _I can't stay, you alway leave me here alone._

 _I miss you. I love you._

 _I love you._

No, that wouldn't help; neither him nor herself. A note couldn't change the fact that she left, a piece of paper wouldn't make her absence any less real.

And maybe he wouldn't mind, it might have actually been what he was waiting for. Was he too much a gentleman - or a coward - to tell her to leave himself, was this his way of pushing her away?

Her jaw tightened at the thought, he wouldn't do that, would he?

Yes, he was rarely home, only ever showed his face at the apartment when he thought her fast asleep or away visiting one of the many museums. But that was because of work, because of the long office hours and because of his always expecting father. The man demanded so much and who was she to keep him from the only sane family he had left.

Because admitting she might be the cause of his prolonged absences would hurt too much; and right now she was not gonna let herself feel anything, especially not that.

Deep down, she had of course turned it over and over in her head numerous times. How disappointed he had been at the result - or rather lack of one - from Nico's trail and the constant sadness and cold eyes he would fill their apartment with. It still haunted her, the way he would look at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. The thin line of this lips and the mix of incomprehensible emotions playing behind his empty eyes.

Did he not love her any longer and had it all been her doing?

She shook her head and the fine curtain of blond hair clouded her vision. She couldn't think like this, she shouldn't. This would lead to absolutely nothing more than further deepening the heavy guilt she already ached to shake from her body.

Everything was in order and she was only her to visit, that was what she would tell her friends and herself. Nothing had happened, this didn't mean the end of anything; this was just a little space.

The tram came to a halt at her stop and when she turned the corner into her street, the world around her seemed to make a little more sense. Something about the old houses and colourful facades made her heart beat faster and forced the wrinkled skin on her forehead smooth.

The closest feeling she had ever experienced to coming home.

And if it hadn't been for the ding-sound of her vibrating phone, the illusion of her old life might have been seamless.

 **William: Noora?**


	2. Empty

**Hope you enjoy the second chapter! (Next one coming soon hopefully.)**

 **Also I wanted to thank you for the very kind comments on the first one, they made me incredibly happy! Thank you!**

The sky above London was still tainted with shades of light blu, soft pinks and yellows. He hadn't left work this early - 8 pm - in weeks.

The past nights had been grueling. Even longer hours than usual spent at the office, sitting behind the sturdy wooden desk, his father had so graciously accommodated him with. Of course he had liked it in the beginning, it had been fun and a new experience, nothing like school. But with every passing day the workload had increased and his fathers words and silent expectations had gotten harder and harder to follow.

The muscles in his back ached and the briefcase felt as heavy as a led weight in his left hand. He hadn't slept in his own bed for two nights, or maybe thee, he couldn't really remember. In fact, he hadn't seen the inside of the apartment, located in a quiet Kensington street, for multiple days, hadn't seen her for days.

As so often he swore himself to talk to his father, ease his current workload and return home when the gloomy autumn sun was still up. He sighed, as his free hand dug through his pocket for the set of keys - he could already see the distain in his fathers eyes, the disappointment in his pinched together eyebrows.

The lock clicked open and he slipped through the half opened door.

Probably as a result of the lack of sleep he had accumulated over the past week, or month, it took him several moments to realize that something was different.

Darkness, he was greeted by complete and udder darkness.

„I'm home." nothing but silence.

„Noora" nothing.

He swallowed, not sure what to make of this. Maybe she had already gone to sleep and more yelling would only wake her.

After slipping off his shoes and loosening the deep blue tie looped around his neck he quietly opened their bedroom door.

Again, it took his eyes a minute to adjust to the mute darkness hovering in the room. The outlines of the unnecessarily big bed loomed beside the window, but the sheets were smoothed perfectly over the edges and the pillows looked untouched.

The chair and dressing table were empty as well. The two or three lip sticks she normally kept their and her brush tangled with light blond here were gone. His eyes desperately scanned the room for any trace of her, for just the smallest piece of her presence; to prove that what he feared most was just a trick played by his sleep deprived mind.

She wasn't there, and he felt his mouth go dry. His right hand curled around the door handle and he was about to force it closed as if to delete the image of their empty bed from his mind. He half heartedly expected to wake up any moment and find himself still at his desk several underground stops away in the city.

„Noora" he tried again not sure if he expected an answer only certain that he needed one.

Her voice, even a mocking Willhelm, he had heard neither in too long. She had been absent and cold and he hadn't been home to notice.

„Please, Noora." his hand were reaching for the untouched sheets, drawing deep wrinkles into the soft fabric.

Only the perfume she always wore, a sweet mixture of rose and orange blossom, still lingered on the pillows and sheets. He drew them closer, desperate to catch every last breath of her, to somehow keep her close.

How pathetic he must look, nothing like the cliche boyfriend she used to mock him as. The strain of long hours set at a desk and the pain in his heart at the sight of their empty apartment had made his back crooked and his body relished the soft mattress underneath.

Somehow he didn't need to look at the rest of their appartment, he knew that she had taken everything and as there was nothing left to hold onto he clung to one of the pillows neatly propped against the head of the bed. Still dressed in his suit, it made it difficult to bend his legs comfortably but he remained on the bed, unable to accept what undoubtedly was her finally leaving him.

He had done it, finally pushed her away far enough. She had, after more than half a year, left him at last. An unpleasant heaviness filled his stomach and the images before his closed eyes were a mixture of her blond short hair and light eyes entangles with the wrinkled and expressionless face of his mother.

But she was nothing like his mother, nothing like the miserable group of people he was forced to call family. She was kind and smart and fierce; she had loved him and life had never felt so easy. Too easy, he should have known that it couldn't last, that the warm feeling in his heart was only temporary.

He pressed the pillow even closer to his chest buried his head in the silken fabric. Sleep took him only to snap back into consciousness when the phone he had still kept in his pocked rang. The noise resulted in a throbbing pain in his head and his whole body felt weirdly numb when he reached for the phone.

Dad - the caller ID did nothing to lessen the pain in his head. He rubbed his temple and awkwardly tried to turn his phone to silent. He would have to listen to his father rant about how lazy and irresponsible he was later for this but in that moment he couldn't bare hearing his disappointed voice, not now.

He couldn't have been asleep for very long judging by the weak orange line tracing along the visible horizon. The curtains still stood wide open as he had done nothing but enter the room and collapse on the mattress. Now that he unlocked his phone, the display seemed uncomfortably bright to his tired eyes and forced his eyes to blink several times.

He checks both his mail and messages, only to find no a single unread message and the one red circle indicating a missed call stemmed from his father just a minute ago. Unsure if he should feel surprised or not by her lack of communication his thumb hovered over their chat.

Anyways maybe she was just gone for the night or maybe the weekend. Had it been stupid and careless of him to assume that she would leave him for good without leaving a single note or line of text? Him jumping to premature conclusion had already caused them to break up once and he sure as hell wasn't keen on making that mistake twice.

She missed her friends, of course she would want to visit them sooner or later. Maybe she had even told him she would visit Oslo and he had simply been too absent to hear her. There was absolutely no need to think that things were over between them. This was just his mind, the always present paranoia and fear that she would leave him one day; that he was undeserving of a continuous relationship with a person, who to him couldn't be more perfect.

He rubbed his nose and brushed the long strand of hair behind his ear. Trying his best to silence the nagging doubt in the back of his mind he opened their chat and the fact that they hadn't texted in three days made him flinch. He would have to do better, try and be the boyfriend she deserved.

William knew he should write something - ask if she was ok, where she was going, when she would return - anything. But the words didn't come as easy as they once had and it was only when the phone returned to the black lock screen that he realized he hadn't moved at all.

Maybe he should apologize, promise that he would be home more, be with her more. No, that wouldn't be honest and written as a text message, a pathetic promise.

 _Why did you leave?_

 _Why did you leave? I miss you!_

Demanding an answer for her absence, when he only knew too well why she wasn't beside him in their bed tonight, seemed unfair.

 _Please come back!_

 _Please come home, I miss you!_

But was this home? An apartment in west-central London with a view over Hyde-Park - away from all their friends, her friends, her school?

 _Are you in Oslo?_

 _Are you at the Kollekitv, with Eva, your friends?_

 _Are you ok?_

He groaned, this didn't feel right. Whatever he entered through the phone screen felt wrong. What scared him most was how distant they had grown in just a few months. It used to be so easy to talk to her, to text her anything and now he was scared of sending her a single text - scared that whatever he did now could push her even further away.

 _I miss you_

No that was selfish.

 _I love you._

 _Noora, I love you._

He did, he really did - maybe even too much. Nothing had ever felt as important and as a result he had grown more and more scared of loosing that safety and comfort he had never felt with anyone else before.

So finally he settled on one word, positive that if he kept trying to find a better wording he would only overcomplicate things.

 **William: Noora?**

After all, maybe she would be back tomorrow morning and all his worrying had been for nought.


	3. Herbal tea

Her phone showed 7:00 when she had decided that she wouldn't get anymore sleep that night anyway. Loose strands of hair had gathered around her face and the hair tie meant to keep it all securely on top of her head had been lost in the gaps between the pillows.

Her bed for the night, the somewhat used couch in the Kollektiv's living room - or epicenter of last night's party judging by the cups and confetti scattered across the floor. Maybe she should feel thankful that there were no other leftover from yesterday - in human form - though she hadn't checked Eskild's room yet so she couldn't even be certain of that.

Sure, compared to some of Eskild's other escapades and pre-games held at their apartment this was tame, but it somehow made her feel out of place. Partying and the lingering smell of beer and sometimes other bodily fluids clouding the air had always made her head ache and her eyes glassy from the cigaret smoke. It simply didn't make sense to her how people could view this as fun, and though she had hoped that maybe with the years she would get the appeal, she hadn't.

A cosy night out with friends or a move night filled with the smell of freshly made popcorn and pizza as a midnight snack seemed so much more appealing in her mind. Maybe it was because she missed her friends, their conversations and the laughs they had shared; or maybe it was because right now she couldn't imagine anything worse than being at a party and forced to watch random high schoolers as well as her friends make out with one hand still latched to a beer bottle. Plus there might be people she knew - or worse, knew her and all the rumors she had collected last spring- she was in no mood to explain her sudden return to people she could barely remember the names of.

She checked her phone for the time again, not pleased that it was still only 7:09. Her roommates, or maybe her former roommates - as she didn't really have a room for herself here anymore - wouldn't be up before noon. That meant that she would have hours to herself, and though the idea of not having to talk to anyone right now seemed well enough, she knew that she would have to face their questions eventually.

With a small sigh she lifted her feet from the couch to the ground and her limbs ached in response. It had already grown quite chilly in their Oslo flat and contrary to the always perfectly tempered apartment in London, Eskild, Linn or Isak obviously hadn't thought it necessary to turn on the heating. The provisional fleece blanked she had wrapped around her torso and legs for the night had evidently been too thin for this time of year.

Digging through her bag for the pair of fluffy socks she always kept on hand when traveling, Noora noticed just how tired she still felt. But there was no use in trying to fall back asleep now and as she was already up and awake, she might as well do something useful with the spare hours.

The remaining paper cups and beer cans were quickly collected into a black waste bag and she contemplated vacuuming the confetti covered floor, but opted for the mop they kept in one of the back closets for her roommates' sake. Waking them at this hours surely wouldn't elicit many happy faces.

Even though she hadn't been at the Kollektiv in months and she hadn't slept in the bed that now wasn't hers any longer, somehow seeing the familiar walls around her and knowing that she might be the only one awake but never alone her made her feel infinitely better. After returning the living room to its usual state of not being perfectly clean but at least tidied enough for her standards, she decided to venture into the kitchen hoping to find something edible to quiet the growl in her stomach.

After adding a few more beer cans to the ones she had already collected, Noora did find a box of chocolate cereal and the last few drops out of an almost empty milk carton. Under normal circumstances she would never have deemed this nutritious or worthy enough to be called breakfast, but she was to exhausted to care.

She checked her phone for any unread messages incase some of her friends had somehow gotten wind of her return. The only person she had actually met face to face yesterday had to her immense surprise been Isak; though she wasn't sure how sober or drunk he had been to have actually remembered their late night encounter. Also had she really expected him to tell any of her friends; he had been close with Eva and though they still remained friends the whole Eva and Jonas breakup had left their friendship with a considerable dent. Oh and she had almost forgotten, there had been one more boy with him yesterday, a tall handsome blond she had never before seen at school or any of the few parties she had been forced to attend.

Scrolling though the chats on her phone Noora contemplated who to tell first. Eskild was still asleep and she had no intention of waking any other of her most likely hung over roommates. Vilde would be too much enthusiasm and uncomfortable questions, Chris B. and Eva were probably still passed out as well - so that left Sana. She was fairly confident that if any one of her friends was actually awake at this hour on a Saturday it would most definitely be Sana.

Sana was a master at clever observations and uncomfortable questions but she always knew when to stop interrogating and if needed, she could be the sweetest and most empathetic out of their whole group.

Yes, texting Sana was probably her best option.

 **Noora: are you awake?**

And indeed the answer didn't take long.

 **Sana: Yes. what's up?**

 **Noora: I was wondering if you wanna meet, just coffee or something?**

 **Noora: I'm back in Oslo, but I haven't told the others yet**

She quickly added the second line of text, silently praying for Sana's surprise to be as minimal as possible.

 **Sana: Ok**

They met an hour later at a small café that was already open at 8 am. Sana had gotten something that smelled like chai and Noora had opted for an herbal tee mix to maybe help with her slightly sore body.

Just incase Eskild should wake before she got back, she had texted him a few lines, saying that she was back and that would explain everything as soon as possible. She hadn't yet decided what everything would entail as of now but at least a few basic details would have to do.

Sana hadn't said much, save for their initial hellos and her drink when the waitress had hastily scribbled their orders on her notepad. Now she was carefully following Noora's own movements and her lips - even though free of any lip stick - curved into the tiniest of smirks.

«It's really good to see you back in Oslo, I hope you know that.» she twirled the spoon between her fingers. «It's just I didn't expect you backs so soon. Not that I don't like it though.»

«I know.» Noora mustered a small laugh and fell quiet again. She didn't really know where to start or what to tell Sana and her eyes drifted away; also how much was their really to tell anyways, it wasn't like this was what Sana clearly interpreted it to be.

«I missed you guys. A lot actually, even Vilde.» she bit her lip and was happy to find Sana smiling back at her. «I should have called more.»

«Yeah, but as long as you were happy in London we were ready to accept your lack of communication.» Sana took a careful sip of her chai. «I hope you're still happy.»

It was neither a question nor an accusation but still Noora felt slightly taken aback by Sana's bluntness. Her gaze returned to the cup in her hands and she sensed her mouth go dry. Sana had probably already figured out more than she would have felt comfortable telling her and somehow it helped to know that she wasn't completely alone with her thoughts.

«Yes» she almost breathed the word «I am now.»

Sana didn't respond and Noora chose to let her gaze wander over the cars parked outside the café and the few passing people in the otherwise empty street. She was happy now, or at least happier than she had been 24 hours ago. The comfort of being back in her familiar and trusted environment alone had eased the weight she had thought to be carrying on her shoulders. Here the street signs didn't read in English and the prices for a simple cup of coffee where as high as she had always expected them to be, there were fewer people, especially tourist clogging the streets and the cold nordic seas was only a couple hundred meters away at all times.

«I can tell you about school if you want, you have missed quite a few things.» Sana offered and Noora returned a grateful smile and nod.

«Eva, Vilde and I are leading the Kosegruppe now. It's going well so far I think, we even bullied Jonas and the guys into joining.» Sana added with a content smirk. «School itself is as boring as ever and Eva is really struggling in Spanish without you. I guess if Penetrator Chris wouldn't keep distracting her from school work, she might actually do quite well.»

«Penetrator Chris?» Sana crinkled her eyebrows and frowned slightly at the mention of the Penetrators.

«Oh yeah, they seem to be really close now. Or well, as close to as you could ever be to a fuckboy, I guess. They started hooking up more over the summer, I think Chris misses …» Sana evidently noticed her mistake right that moment but Noora had already snapped her eyes from her cup to the girl infant of her with a startled look disrupting their normally smooth green colour.

Of course Sana was most likely right with her assumption, both Chris and Eva had lost their friends to far away England and she guessed hooking up was their way to cope. Though certainly the last time she had spotted Eva's favorite Penetrator it hadn't been her he had already undressed halfway on a bed that hadn't been his.

She closed her eyes and rubbed the bride of her nose with the back of her hand. This wasn't helping and she certainly hadn't come here to brood over the memories of their end-of-school party at the beginning of the summer; not that she wanted to forget, but this was not the time

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sana looking at her and patiently waiting to offer any words of comfort, judging by the all too understanding look in her dark brown eyes. Noora took a sip of her tea and relished the heat trickling down her throat. She had craved the warmth and comfort, her friends and all the laughter without any of the sorrow she seemed to have collected over the past weeks.

«So, Isak has taken my room at the Kollektiv. Who would have though?» Not a smooth transition at all, but somehow Isak and the couch she would now have to call her bed had popped into her mind first.

«Yeah, I guess that sucks. Do you have a proper place to sleep at?»

«More or less, but it will have to do for now.» she carefully removed the fully soaked tea tag from her beverage. «But since we're already talking, what about you? Anything new, exciting, is your family well?»

«Alive and kicking.» Sana smirked and if Noora didn't know any better she might have actually thought to notice a light blush on her friend's cheeks; it was probably just the lighting.

The finished their drinks and Sana filled her in on some more school news and gossip; apparently there was a new 00er that looked like a younger Nathalie Portman that all the boys gushed over and Vilde was set set on finding the coolest buss name russtiden had ever seen for them.

They paid and Sana bid Noora goodbye with a tighter than normal hug and the promise to meet again soon.

It was surprisingly already 11 as she got off at her tram stop and when she unlocked the apartment door she was greeted by a still slightly tired looking but extremely exited looking Eskild.

«Fucking hell, it's good to see you. I have missed my little Noora, almost thought Isak was starting to see ghost now when he told me you were back. But there you are, right here in flesh and blood.» he kept going but the bone crushing hug he enveloped her in muffled the rest of his speech.

«And Linn she is so excited as well, she just needed to sleep some more you know. But we can do a Kollektiv night and we'll watch Paradise Hotel and I'll buy all the snack I promise and …»

«I really missed you too, Eskild.» she stopped him and the smile on his face was priceless.

He had to hug her again of course.


	4. Misery

There was no Noora the next morning when he opened his eyes to an empty bed.

There was no Noora that day, or the next; it was only William and the nagging thoughts that she might not be coming back.

He stayed in bed, only occasionally dragging his body from the mattress for a glass of water or the bathroom. The early autumn temperatures in London were chilly enough to normally require a sweater but inside the bedroom the air felt heavy and hot, almost as if he was suffocating in his own misery. The shirt from two days ago was still half buttoned up around his torso and the watch strapped to his left wrist had left ugly marks on the pale skin beneath.

All of the pillows save for one had been disregarded to the polished wooden floor beside the bed. The one still in his grasp was covered in wrinkles and blotted from his sadness. The sent of her sweet and intimately familiar perfume had long faded but just like a small child clutching a stuffed animal, it gave him a false sense of comfort.

The early morning sun stretched its first rays through the tall window and left long strips of light on the sheets around him. It would be a beautiful day, not that he particularly cared, he didn't have the slightest intention of leaving the apartment. It would be sunny outside, too much light, too bright and way to many people. London was always filled with people, and though that could be interpreted as a comfort, it seemed to do nothing but isolate him more; especially happy people with smiling faces and love drunk eyes, appalling really.

He closed his eyes, there was no point it going back to sleep, he had spent the past 15 hours switching between confusing dreams and nightmares bearing only one all too familiar face. He desperately sought to escape reality but sleep only intensified the cluster of emotions he couldn't quite decipher. If there had been any bottles in the otherwise empty refrigerator he would have downed their alcoholic contents hours ago; anything to make this go away.

But just like the rest of their flat, he had found the family sized fridge empty. It shouldn't have really surprised him, but the miserable version his current self presented seemed to have forgotten all common sense. After all, Noora didn't drink and having a glass of wine or something stronger while she nipped at her sparkling water didn't sit right with him. Alcohol had never seemed like a necessity since Noora had entered his life; at least not in the beginning.

Things had changed and there was no point in denying it. The time between their kisses had grown and their respective touches hardened. Her eyes had grown sad and his too tired to notice. The first weeks in London had been filled with laughter and happiness, genuine joy and life had never felt so easy for him. It had all worked out, the complicated edges had fit together in a perfect puzzle. His father was content, he had a good job at the firm and Noora had seemed excited about all the new possibilities the city had to offer.

He should have noticed the signs, should have paid better attention; and maybe he had but the fear of loosing her had refused to let him see the truth. It was almost prophetic he though, how the one thing he had feared most and had sworn himself to prevent with whatever means necessary, had caused just that very scenario to become reality.

The slowly increasing sensation of numbness in his left leg caused him to turn his body to the other side. His hip bone slammed into something metal causing him to curse out loud. Carefully feeling for the object, he retrieved his dead phone from the pocket of his dressing pants. The battery must have given out days ago and he dreaded the messages seething of his father's disappointment he was sure to find.

Fishing for the charing cable beside the bed he plugged the phone in.

Seven missed calls, six from his father and one from a work college, he gridded his teeth and tried not to think about the inevitable confrontation with his father.

What a failure he was, how unreliable, the only son, the only child, nothing but a disappointment. Nothing new really, his dad had never been one for tight embraces or fatherly bonding moments. If there was no money in it, it was worthless; emotions and feeling of sympathy were for the weak and the losers of this world.

Maybe his father had been right, a cold heart couldn't break, could never cause this much pain. She had made him soft and weak, worthless in his father's eyes no doubt.

He scanned through his new text messages and the aching pain drawing through his insides had nothing to do with the lack of food in his belly when he discovered Noora's chat still as he had left it.

 **William: Noora?**

She had read it, but there was no reply.

No, _I'm ok._

 _I'll be back._

 _Don't worry._

And if this really was her leaving him for good, a line of text to give his fears certainty would hurt less than this empty void he was currently staring at.

 _It's over._

 _I'm done._

Really anything but this, he thought.

He could try again maybe, write another text, demand an answer. After all, she couldn't avoid him forever. Maybe later he decided, his brain was starved of calories and sleep had left his mind in a foggy haze.

The watch on his wrist showed seven, than eight, nine, ten, eleven and finally reached twelve. Somewhere in the distance church bells were ringing and the bright laughter of children crossing the street outside breeched the walls.

Of course, it was Tuesday. People were busy going about their normal lives, work and school would fill the city with briefcase carrying men in smart business suits and clog the tube with a surge of commuters. There were never this many people back in Oslo, hell the whole country was smaller than London city if judged by its inhabitants.

How had he done it, gone to work day after day, even on the weekends, for months? He had spent more time at the office than in the apartment, quite honestly doing his best to avoid coming home at night. Exel sheets and tediously long and detailed reports had consumed his every waking minute, just to escape. It seemed impossible now, he could barely find it within him to keep his eyes open let alone strip his body of the sweaty and wrinkled clothes to take a sorely needed shower.

Before he could drift even deeper into his hole of misery and self pity the phone in his hand buzzed. To his pleasant surprise it was neither his father nor anything else work related.

Chris, his best friend, his bro, the one person that had always felt more familiar than his actual family. They hadn't talked in what must have been a week or maybe to. He really needed to pay more attention, everything that was once so important back home seemed to crumble in his desperate hands.

He opened the text and instantly furrowed his brows.

 **Chris: Bro wtf have you done?**

William felt his heart beat increase and bit his lip, not really wanting to anticipate what this was about. He still wrote back anyways.

 **William: What?**

 **Chris: Noora, she's here in Oslo**

 **Chris: apparently she's at Eva's right now**

William stared at the texts. Was this good news or bad, he couldn't decide. At least he knew she was okay and safe with her friends.

And most likely ignoring his text on purpose, the disappointment tasted bitter in his mouth.

 **Chris: Wait, are you in Oslo as well? Why haven't you said anything, is this like your attempted at a surprise and I just ruined it haha**

William groaned, of course it wasn't really far fetched for Chris to assume he might have gone to Oslo as well. Him and Noora had been practically inseparable since the day Chris had put the car in reverse and William had missed the 6 pm flight to London.

 **William: No, I'm in London**

Talking to his best friend made him wish he wasn't. His work was in London, his dad, but everyone else were back home in Oslo. But what were friends without a successful career and a proud father. The irony almost made him chuckle, it truly was absurd.

 **Chris: ok, everything alright?**

 **William: yeah, it's all good**

The truth would have been to complicated and his fingers didn't have the patience or strength to type more than a few coherent words. He was only glad Chris wasn't here now, he would have seen through the lies with one exchanged look and would have surely asked all the questions William himself didn't really know the answers to.

 **Chris: ok, Skype later?**

 **William: sure**

He locked his phone and turned the display towards the bed. This had been more than enough personal contact for today. Hopefully Chris wouldn't actually try to call him later as it would make for a miserable conversation.

Though sooner or later he would have to face the truth of his situation; but sooner was not now and later hopefully a long time ahead.


	5. Homework

**Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I've hit amor writer's block with this story, but I'm determined to continue it.**

 **Also thank you so much for all the wonderful and kind comment, I really appreciate it! 33**

Eskild had pulled every trick - unpacking Noora's stuffed rucksack multiple times included - to persuade her from moving. She wasn't leaving the Kollektiv, not really; not like London. But she could assure Eskild she'd be back next weekend all she wanted, he kept pouting and begging.

She would have never presumed to ask Eva anyways, but when her friend had offered to share her room for a couple of nights until her mother returned from Brussel, Noora couldn't refuse. The empty house was less crowded than the city flat she shared with three more or less agreeable living companions. Even Eskild couldn't argue with the lack of beds at the Kollektiv and the past nights on the couch had left her spine aching for a real mattress.

Sprawled on Eva's bed and a pillow tucked under her chin she scrolled through her phone. It really was a bad habit, especially since her thumb paused on William's unanswered chat every time. It wasn't as if she didn't want to reply; Noora knew just how hard it was, waiting for an explanation, even a quick hi, anything but silence. She remembered the sleepless nights she had spent last spring, sulking in her own bed and alternated between praying for a single word from him and cursing William for not replying to a any of her texts. She put the phone down and leaned back against the propped up pillows.

«I hate irregular verbs.» Eva had her books and papers scattered across the duvet and pillows, struggling with a Spanish homework.

Not being back at school yet, Noora had nothing to distract herself with and there was only so much cleaning one could do. (Scrubbing the wall at seven in the morning two days ago might have taken it a step too far.) She hated the empty space in her head, it reminded her of London and all the things she had left London for. So when Eva had kept on nagging about her dropping grades, she had been more than glad to look over her essays and papers for her.

«They're not so bad once you get them into your head.»

«Spanish doesn't agree with me. I should have chosen German.» Eva sighed and Noora laughed.

«Because that would be any easier?»

«At least it doesn't have the Spanish r.» to Noora's amusement Eva tried to roll the r and failed miserably.

With a groan Eva forced her attention back to the paper and Noora continued scrolling through the chat. It read like a diary of the growing distance between them. The last ' _I love you_ ' was weeks past and she scarcely remembered the last time he had said it to her in person. It must have been some hectic morning where he would quickly kiss her goodbye, mumble the words and disappear for the next 8 to 10 hours.

She scrolled back to his newest message.

 **William: Noora?**

It wasn't because she didn't love him anymore, she still did. Maybe too much, but he had changed in ways she had barely recognized him some days. Not just because he had swopped his simple pants and fitted sweaters for perfectly tailored suits and dark blue ties that seemed to strangle all life from his body. She missed the person that had made her cocoa every other night and she could have talked about absolutely anything with at 2 am. He knew so much about her, everything there was to know - except maybe for the spelling of her name, but that was mystery even her parents hadn't been able to explain. Eva was her best friend, the first girl she had met in Oslo, but there were things they didn't talk about. Eva's family was fucked up as well with her mother always traveling but until William no one had ever comprehend what it meant to have family and still not have family at the same time.

She was grateful for the things Mari had told her. It might not have been right to hear it from her but every time she had tried to ask William about it since, the pain in his eyes had made her drop the topic instantly. He had only managed to tell her how he used to play with Amalie, read her stories and would slip under the covers with her to keep the nightmares away. Noora had never known a sibling of her own but William's choked words as he remembered his little sister mangled her heart. She had scarcely ever seen him cry before that. Mari had been right, he had perfected the art of hiding his feelings, even from her. (Had he cried now that she had left him?)

Maybe that was the problem, they were too fucked up. Or was it that William had finally found the family he had never had in Oslo. Noora had only ever met his father once, two days after they moved into the apartment. He had been there to give William something work related and had only acknowledged her with a quick nod, not waisting any time on niceties. Though she appreciated the honesty, his cool demeanor had felt especially out of place compared to William's almost childlike excitement.

He had had daddy issues written all over him and no one, especially not his father, had ever looked close enough to care. Now that he did give him attention it had changed everything. She should have been happy for him, for finally finding some family member that showed any signs of interest, but that wasn't was family was supposed to be. Just like her, he had probably never experienced genuine love or honest affection before, and this came close enough.

Was it because she wasn't so sure what William would have chosen, her or his dad? Not that she would have ever posed such an ultimatum but she wouldn't put it past his father. Maybe this was his answer, he chose London over Oslo, work over her. Noora knew it wasn't a fare assessment, she was the one who had left and it was pathetic to think he would drop everything to chase after her the second he discovered her disappearance. (It was selfish, but every time someone knocked on the door or entered a room, she would hope it was him, just for a split second.)

She continued to stare at the unanswered message, the brightness of the display making her eyes strain. When her phone vibrated, the surprise almost caused her to drop it. Her mouth went dry when another white bubble appeared under his last one.

 **William: Chris told me you're in Oslo, can you please answer**

She wasn't sure if it was good or bad that he knew where she was.

«Eva,» she looked up from her homework. «Have you told Chris that I'm back?»

«Hmm» Eva furrowed her brows, «Was that supposed to be a secret?»

Noora swallowed and pursed her lips. Eva had a point, it was no secret and explaining why William's best friend knew more about his girlfriend than William himself was a topic she didn't want to tackle. Eva was still twirling her pen between her fingers studying Noora, who very clearly wasn't typing a reply to William's text.

«If you wanna talk about it …» Eva carefully said.

«I know,» Noora nibbled at her lip. «It's just there is nothing to talk about.»

Eva didn't look convinced but dropped her eyes back to her Spanish homework.

For now, she hadn't told anyone exactly why she was back. Only that everything was okay and she had missed her friends. Thankfully, no one had been bold enough to ask any more than that. Sometimes she would catch them staring, studying her face as if they expected her to collapse in front of their eyes at any second. She would have to tell them the truth at some point but for now she was grateful that Sana had stifled any tactless questions Vilde was no doubt itching to ask.

 **William: just please say something. I am so sorry!**

Her buzzing phone send shockwaves through her body and she had trouble concentrating on the words on the screen. She was sorry too, more than he knew.

This would have been so easy if it had all been his fault, his doing alone. But the truth was complex and she knew that running wasn't the appropriate way to deal with their problems, but staying would have killed the last bit of life in her soul. Why couldn't he be the asshole she had seen in him a year ago, self centered, caring for none but himself and no one she could ever fall in love with?

What was worse, that she knew that he cared, maybe even more than she did - only he hid it well - or that he had stop caring about her; if he hadn't, he hid it even better.

She knew that that was what they all assumed when they stared at her. The pity filled eyes, because surely William Magnusson had returned to his old ways and had sent her back to Oslo with a broke heart. The urge to defend him battled with the still intact peaces of her broke pride. They wouldn't believe her, Eskild hadn't when she had tried her best to explain how she was the one who had done all the leaving. She didn't want to imagine the look on Sana and Eva's faces when they discovered what she had actually done. How she had been too weak to face Nico at the trial, how she had lied to everyone and had left William with nothing but an empty apartment.

Her eyes were glued to his name on top of her screen and she had to bite back the tears. Noora wanted to scream at him, make him see all the things her head couldn't find words for and her mouth was to cowardly to pronounce. She wanted to say something, anything at all.

She couldn't.

She wanted him here, at her side to wipe the tear from her cheek and make all of the last months undone. Instead she stared at Eva, still struggling with her essay and swallowed down the childish wishes.

They went to sleep early and Noora was thankful for a full night's sleep in a real bed. She closed her eyes.

If he really loved her, he would come after her; maybe Eskild was right.


End file.
